Of late I have been a bit lost. I have had some pains that are out of the ordinary and they concern me. Today I will give the relevant doctor a call. Also, I had a growth on my ear that needed to be removed. It was beginning to look like I had a small toe growing out of the top of my ear. A numbing agent and a few snips and now I look like a Mike Tyson chew toy. Getting old blows.
Just the other day I saw a movie just because of my current fascination with Portugal. The film was called Night Train to Lisbon; it is a languidly paced and beautiful movie. Jeremy Irons acts a solid part depicting an adult at the crossroads between the long road behind and the short road ahead. Having seen the movie, I picked up the book. Same story, sort of. The book tells the tale from a very different narrative perspective.
The book is a meditation by a person who believes in nothing beyond this life on personal identity and ethics. Some parts of the narrative, large parts of the book are purportedly drawn from the journal of a dead man, wax redundant. But some parts are so spot on to what I am feeling this day, two months before I turn 62. What if I could take back those eight words I said 25 years ago. What if I had not been smoking the night before the PSAT. What if ….and more importantly what next?
In the book the main character seems to be heading for a new life, ready to create a new narrative with the time he has left after many years of a highly regimented existence. A new narrative, yes that is what I am hoping for. Mind you, I am not counting on it, but I am hoping for it. Let me walk out without fear as I face my final years.